


Strong Enough (to be my man)

by FanGirlyGlee



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Getting Back Together, M/M, coming to terms with one's sexuality, learning to love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-21 20:07:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17649044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanGirlyGlee/pseuds/FanGirlyGlee
Summary: Ray knows sex and love, and his own mind (most of the time).  Mick knows sex, or thinks he does.  Why would he need more than that?  Could he ever have more than that?  Best not to think about it, right?FYI: Mild spoilers for S4 before the mid-season break. Also - the first three chapters reference events that take placebeforeS4 begins.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated explicit because there is hot lovin' from time to time, but this isn't wall-to-wall smut.  
> Also, it swerves into AU after Tagumo Attacks!!! because no Ray/Nora

Ray Palmer was enjoying a rare moment of peace despite the crowd at the National Gallery.  Anna had done her best to help him gain appreciation for modern schools of art, but he would always remained fondest of the Impressionists.   Plans for his day off had changed at the last minute, and he decided to ditch the polo and jeans in favor of a new suit.  Despite being off-the-rack rather than custom-tailored, he emerged from the clothier’s feeling like a new man.  Ray viewed himself as an ever-evolving hybrid; one-time tech giant CEO, and now time-traveling Legend who, these days, never went out without a miniaturized ion blaster concealed under his watch band.

Recent unpleasant events gave Ray cause to be mindful of his surroundings.  His eyes flitted toward the door to the exhibit, monitoring the entrance and exit of other museum patrons.   He wasn't startled when a well-dressed young man approached him hesitantly.  “Ray?”

Ray nodded and extended a hand.  “Yes, and you must be Jim.  Thank you for agreeing to meet me on such short notice.”

“My pleasure.  Have you been here long?”

“Only two hours, and I can be done shortly.  I don’t want to bore you.” 

Jim smiled broadly.  “Why don’t we start with you telling me which piece in this room is your favorite?”

Ray gestured toward the painting he’d been standing in front of the last ten minutes, pointing out all the small details he found fascinating.   Jim listened with apparent interest, nodding at appropriate intervals and asking leading questions that allowed Ray to expound on the topic of pigments and his firm belief that digital technology could never replace brushstrokes on canvas.  The conversation continued as they strolled through other exhibits until Ray glanced at his watch.  “I’ve gone on longer than I planned – as usual.  Shall we have lunch?”  Jim suggested they walk given that the temperature was higher than usual for an autumn day.  “This is nice,” Ray remarked.  “I thought about getting a car, but I would probably be irritated by traffic, and it seems I’m always in a hurry these days.”  He felt a pleasant warmth bloom in his stomach when Jim reached for his hand and held it confidently. 

“You work very hard. It’s all right to take time for yourself.”

“I should,” Ray conceded.  “Things at work have been almost unbelievable lately.  I believe what I’m doing is important, and I have a great team.  I’m fortunate to be able to do what I enjoy.”

When they reached the restaurant, Ray decided on outdoor seating so they could continue enjoying the fresh air.   He ordered more than he usually would, but delighted in offering his companion the opportunity to try new things.  “Any more food and I’ll be stuck in this chair,” Jim teased.   

“There isn’t anywhere we have to be,” Ray replied gleefully.  “And I need your help to finish this bottle of wine.  I’m not as much of a drinker as…never mind.”  He cut himself off, only to have Jim squeeze his knee reassuringly.

“It’s all right, Ray.  You can tell me about it if you’d like.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I’d rather not.  I prefer to focus on present company.”

“Got any tattoos?”  Jim asked, deftly changing the subject. 

Ray set down his fork down on the dessert plate with a decisive clank.  “No, but I’ve flirted with the idea of body modification for a long time.  I think today’s the day I don’t chicken out.”

“Lead the way.”

They settled the bill and located the nearest reputable-looking shop.  Jim eyed Ray critically. “Let me guess, butterfly on your ankle?”  Ray rolled his eyes.  “Dolphin on your hip?  Maybe a few words in a foreign language you don’t understand?”

Pointing to an one of the examples on the wall, Ray indicated his choice.  “That.  I want that.”

“I’ll hold your hand,” Jim promised.

Seated in the artist’s chair, Ray took deep calming breaths as he unbuttoned the front of his shirt.  It was over quickly, and not nearly as painful as he’d feared.  He exited the shop with his arm hooked around Jim’s waist.  "I can't believe I finally did it!” he gushed. 

He let himself be pulled into a loose hug under the shade of a tree as Jim whispered in his ear, “What next?”

The taller man swallowed his apprehension.  “I suppose this is the part where I smoothly suggest we go to my hotel room.”

“Only if that’s what you want.”

“It is,” he confessed.  “I’ve been trying to find a way to bring it up without saying something crude, because I'm having so much fun.  This day started out pretty rocky, and you really helped turn it around. I just feel so _good_.

“All right then.  Let’s go to your hotel room and see if we can keep that going.”

 

The sun was setting when Ray forced himself to rise from the bed and redress.  He left some cash next to the room key on the bedside table.  Jim stirred as Ray exited the room.  “Happy Birthday,” he called out. 

Ray’s heart felt a little heavier with each step up the Waverider’s ramp.  That morning he’d woken up smiling.  He hadn’t made a big deal about his birthday for many years, but after helping defeat a demon he thought he deserved to celebrate.  

\--- _That morning_

“Gideon, is Mick up yet?”

“Mister Rory is awake,” Gideon replied in her usual pleasant emotionless tone.  Ray was surprised.  Usually getting Mick out of bed before 9 AM involved a combination of threats and promises.  With any luck Ray would be able to get him off the ship without too many questions.  Approaching Mick’s quarters, he saw the door open and Wally West stepped out into the corridor clad in pajamas.  It appeared that Mick was seeing the younger man out, which was confusing because no one ever spent the night in Mick’s room, not even when he was recovering from a bullet wound and a worried friend wanted to check on him.   Ray was further shocked when Wally slung an arm around Mick’s neck and hugged him, but was allowed to depart unscathed.  Ray fled in the opposite direction, pushing the lump in his throat down, deep into his chest where it couldn’t rise up and choke him.  He could forget the rehearsed speech about renting a car and failing to return it on time being just as much fun as stealing one.  There would be no doughnuts on the way to the National Museum of Crime and Punishment or any of the other fun activities he’d planned for the two of them.  Instead Ray pulled out his phone and reactivated an old account on an escort website that advertised _The Boyfriend Experience._


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Mick started it, and kept it going.

Mick figured that jumping Haircut might make into his top ten crazy ideas that turned out all right.  It all started when they lost the professor and some bleeding heart with Snart’s face was hanging around tryin’ to be his pal.  He needed something to stop the spinning for a few minutes.  Mick yanked Ray in by his lapels; heaving hot ragged breath on the other man’s neck.  The boy scout got the drift and then took the lead.  He pulled Mick’s jacket down over his arms and pushed him into the nearest chair.  Next, he slung one leg up so he was half sitting in Mick’s lap.   Their torsos bumped together awkwardly as Mick had to grasp Ray’s hips to keep him from falling over as he ground their denim covered crotches together.  In no time at all they were rocking each other through their respective climaxes.  Ray stood up and sniffed loudly.   He flashed Mick a dopey smile.  “Yeah?” was all he said.

“Yeah,” Mick agreed, despite being unsure of the question, and watched him leave.

 

Thank God it hadn’t been Haircut’s first rodeo, or even his fifth judging by how eagerly he responded to Mick’s admittedly clumsy overture.  What was even more shocking was that he made no attempt to talk about it the next day, or the day after that.   Then, on the weirdest, most sober, Christmas night he could remember, Mick maneuvered Ray into a dark corner.  The nerd played coy.  “No mistletoe hanging out here, Mick.” 

“Not plannin’ on kissin’ ya,” Mick shot back.  “You need me to find some before I get your dick out?”  The bright pink color that bloomed on Ray’s cheeks was his reply before he allowed himself to be dragged by the belt to Mick’s room. 

“Gonna kiss you anyway,” Ray announced once they were behind closed doors.  It was messy at first, but Mick got the hang of mashing lips while they pawed at each other; definitely cut down on the amount of time he had to spend searching wide brown eyes for signs of panic. 

 

After that choke-happy asshole got Amaya’s totem Mick went through the trouble of bringing Haircut a beer only to find he was being a huge downer about the witch chick. First, he got himself kidnapped, and then almost killed.  The whole situation left Mick royally pissed off.  He’d somehow been judged worthy of bearing a mystical totem.  Having fire in the palm of his hands was cool and all, but it didn’t banish the raw feeling that had only gotten worse without Axel.  He stole in to Ray’s room, not entirely sure how he was going to communicate “Try harder to not die”, only to find the recently stitched-together man sleeping peacefully.  All Mick could do was stand there in the half-light, staring at his stupid gentle face.

It wasn’t clear when he began to think about Ray in _that_ way.  He’d always been an idiot, but he somehow became Mick’s idiot when his suit got destroyed.  Then one day, out of the blue, Mick found himself wondering if his partner’s hair was as soft as it looked, which led to thoughts about how, apart from his mop and five o’clock shadow, Haircut seemed pretty smooth otherwise.  The next thing he knew he’d found out firsthand what it was like to have someone else’s stubble rubbin’ against his.  Before that Christmas he hadn’t really kissed another man.  In juvie it’d been no secret that some of the boys messed around with each other owing to the lack of available pussy, and sure Mick had done _stuff_ when he was locked up.  He liked getting’ off as much as any dude, and most chicks he figured.  Anyway, Haircut was proving he could roll with it so why derail the train to a sure thing.

Mick stood by his claim that the merging of the totem bearers to defeat Mallus was the worst orgy ever; conveniently omitting the fact that he’d never been invited to one.  In fact, until he started foolin’ around with Haircut, he’d had a bit of a dry spell.   There’d been no trouble hooking up in Aruba the first time around, but now the whole team was there and Mick didn’t feel like moving around unnecessarily.  There was plenty of eye candy on the beach, but Ray seemed intent on concealing his natural assets.   Eventually Mick had to take matters into his own hands; splashing a perfectly-good margarita on them both so he could suggest they go change in his cabana.

While Ray pulled off his tank top, Mick made a grab for the other man’s stupidly long shorts and ended up knocking him backwards onto the bed.  Ray seemed amused when the bottle of lube was slapped into his hand.  “Oh, okay. I suppose we have time now.”  Mick did his best not to stare as Ray got ready.  In the very small amount of porn he’d seen involving guy on guy action – always with one or more chicks involved - the prep work had been done before the camera started rolling.  It was fascinating seeing those long, talented fingers delve into what seemed an impossibly small opening.  It wasn’t until he tore open the condom wrapper that it hit Mick that he wasn’t sure he knew how to make it good for Ray.  He couldn’t just bang away at the guy like he didn’t matter.  The solution came to him as he was sheathing his length in latex.  “You wanna be on top?”

Ray’s eyes lit up like a kid on Xmas morning.  “Sure!”  Mick lay down and Ray straddled him, reaching behind his back to position Mick’s dick properly.   Once seated, eyelids fluttering like hummingbirds, he leaned forward to mash his lips against Mick’s.   Trying to figure out how whether or not he was a bad kisser distracted Mick from the fear that he might go off at any second.  Why hadn’t they done this sooner?  Had anyone else ever felt so hot and _right_ or was had he forgotten it?   When Ray bit his own hand to stifle a moan, Mick was done for.  His vision got a little fuzzy and when Ray came into focus again Mick grabbed at him.  “Get over here.”  Before his conscious mind could object, he hung his head off the edge of the bed.   The fact that his entire body was tingling helped quell the momentary panic he typically experienced when a dick was shoved into his mouth.  Eyes shut tight, he held his breath, and soon enough Ray was pulsing over his tongue.  Mick turned his head and spat on the floor, wiping his mouth with a discarded shirt.  Ray flopped down beside him and they lay side-by-side, staring at the ceiling fan. 

“Wow,” Ray breathed.  “That was great.  I was wondering if you wanted to do that – with me.  I’m glad you did.  We should definitely do it again sometime.  I mean, if you want to.”

“Sure,” was all Mick could manage as a little voice in the corner of his mind began to scream.

Any misgivings he had didn’t keep him from messing around with Ray pretty regularly after that.  Mick practiced a _do you wanna_ look that Ray caught on to most of the time.  It turned out that Ray was as much of a horndog as Mick, which meant more opportunities for him to work on his moves.  It turned out that suckin’ dick wasn’t as bad as he remembered which helped him make sure his new fuck buddy never left unsatisfied.  

His inner voice, that did not manifest itself visually, thank God, kept asking why he was doin’ all this queer stuff.  Mick reassured it he wouldn’t be snuggling up to Haircut on movie night or marching in any parades.   It was just sex.  He didn’t even ask Ray to stay over.  Not that he was trying to be a jerk.  He just couldn’t relax with someone right next to him.   It didn’t feel safe _._ Haircut seemed to understand, and always skedaddled as soon as he could walk straight. 


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does Ray think about sleeping with Mick?

Some people whose name started with a Z said he was unobservant, but Mick could tell that somethin’ was buggin’ the new kid.  Fastball had been staying up late and wandering around the ship, clearly trespassing in Mick’s domain.   Things came to a head one night when he was trying to write and someone went zipping past his room at unsafe speeds.  Mick stuck his head into the hallway and yelled, “What the hell is your problem?”  The kid screeched to a halt.

“I’ve been trying to figure something out,” he said, tapping one foot and then the other in an annoying rhythm. 

“Haircut loves listening to other people’s troubles.”

“Sure, but I thought maybe you might understand better because, well, you’re gay right?”

Mick’s eyes narrowed and he took a step forward, bringing his bulk to bear.  “Say what?”

Wally shrank back a little.  “I’ve seen the looks you give Ray.”

Mick sighed and rubbed his forehead.  “Get in here.  Not standin’ in the hallway talkin’ ‘bout my business.”  With some hesitation Wally entered Mick’s quarters and waited until the older man shoved enough junk around that there was a place for him to sit.

 “Start blabbin’,” Mick urged. 

“I think I’m attracted to men.” 

“You _think_? You either wanna fuck ‘em or you don’t.”

“I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately and not just in a hypothetical sense.”

“And you’re telling me because?”

Wally appeared to consider his response carefully.  “If there’s something going on between you and Ray and I asked him about it he’d probably just confirm my suspicion that he’s bisexual.    You, on the other hand, check out women all the time and never miss a chance to talk about a “hot chick”.   But if you’re with Ray, then maybe you’re bi, or you’re gay and still in the closet, which would make you more like me.  Like I said, I’m not sure.”

Mick started to think, and once he’d started it wasn’t easy to stop.  “If we’re gonna do this we need beer – at least a six-pack– and chips.”  Wally zoomed out of the room and was back in seconds with twelve beers an armload of snacks.  Mick popped open a bottle and stared at it as if it owed him an explanation.  He took a few pulls before talking.  “Dunno if I’m in closets or what.  I’ve screwed plenty of chicks.  Just sometimes there’s more dudes around.”  He prayed he wouldn’t have to explain what he meant by that.

“Okay, but you want Ray, right?  It’s not like you’d _rather_ have sex with Zari or Sara and you’re just settling for Ray.” 

Mick was offended on Ray’s behalf.  “There somethin’ wrong with Haircut?  Ya know, Pretty’s single again, go crush on him.”  Wally suddenly looked distraught, and Mick began to stammer, “Oh, uh, well then.”

“Have you ever felt, or had those thoughts, about friend?”

“I’m screwin’ around with a friend,” Mick admitted.  “It ain’t like Nate’d kill you if you said somethin’.”

“But he’d always know I thought about him like that,” Wally fretted.

Mick decided against mentioning the flashy thing as it might not prove helpful in the long term.  “He might be uh, complimented…”

“Flattered?”

“Yeah.” 

Wally considered that.  “Maybe, but what if I’m just confused? You guys are the first people outside my family I’ve lived with.  I’ve only had one serious romantic relationship. Maybe that’s not enough experience for me to know what I really want.”

Having emptied the first bottle by that point, Mick reached for a second.  “Listen, kid.  My longest _relationship_ was with my best friend and partner-in-crime who ditched me in the wilderness to avoid puttin’ me down like a mad dog.  Which got me captured by the Time Pigs and brainwashed.  Then he saved me and sacrificed himself so I could, theoretically, become a better man.  Being around him or thinkin’ about him never gave me a boner.  I can’t remember the names, or even the faces, of most of the women I’ve banged, and I’ve shared cramped cells in Iron Heights that I woulda stabbed in the gut without a second thought if they crossed me.  None of those fun life experiences explain why I like kissin’ Ray Palmer.  I just do.”   He paused, taking a moment to contemplate what had come out of his mouth.  “Aw hell, that’s gay,” he mumbled.  Wally opened a bag of Fritos, took a handful and passed the bag to Mick who handed him a beer in return.

It took all night, and several piss breaks, but Wally and Mick made some decisions.  Wally concluded that before he pursued a romantic relationship with someone he wanted to finish the spirit quest he’d put on hiatus when he answered Rip Hunter’s call for assistance. Mick begrudgingly admitted that what he had going with Ray was new to him.  Privately, he promised to discuss the matter with his shrink.   When morning arrived, Mick was so exhausted he didn’t even sock the kid for the hug.

**Xxx**

When he returned from his day out, Ray decided cookies were needed.  He was in the galley, munching contentedly, when Wally came in.  “Oh, hi Ray.  You’re just the guy I was looking for.”

“Huh?” Crumbs fell from his mouth as he steeled himself for whatever bomb Wally was about to drop, though the younger man was being awfully friendly if he were about to announce he was stealing Mick’s affections. 

“I wanted to ask for advice.  I’m going to strike out on my own again.  Hanging out with you guys has been fantastic, but I don’t think this is where I’m meant to be.  I just don’t want to upset Nate, especially since he’s still coming to terms with Amaya leaving.  I know he’s leaning on you a lot lately so I thought you might have an idea of how I can break it to him gently.”

Momentarily confused, Ray swallowed and chased the cookie with a gulp of milk.  “We’ll miss you, Wally, but I don’t think anyone will be angry.  You’re an adult; perfectly capable of deciding what’s best for yourself.  If you don’t take chances in life you’ll miss out on some amazing things.  Just talk to Nate. He’ll understand.”

Wally was visibly relieved.  “Thanks, Ray.  You’ve been great – all you guys have.  I love my family, but there’s always so much _concern_ to deal with.  You’ve let me be me.  Now I just have to figure out who me is exactly.”

Chastened, Ray patted him on the shoulder.  “Good luck, Wally.  It takes some people a long time to figure out how to be themselves, but it’s always worth it.”

 

Seemingly unable to avoid running into people, Ray ran into Zari and Mick outside his room.   Zari whistled.  “Lookin’ sharp.” 

Mick’s response to the coat and tie was less positive.  “What’s with the monkey suit?”

Ray’s back stiffened.  “Just felt like something different.”  Mick eyed him suspiciously. 

“I miss somethin’ important today?”

“No.  I just went out for a bit.  You would have been bored.  What are you two up to tonight?”

Zari grinned.  “Kickin’ his butt at Guitar Hero again.”

“I’ve been practicin’,” Mick claimed.

Ray said goodnight and watched them go on their way.  He hung the suit up in the closet next to the blazer he’d kept from his time as a college professor in Hub City.  He felt foolish for suspecting that Mick had cheated on him, even if it wouldn’t technically be cheating because what they had was, at best, a friends with benefits situation.  Though it was probably bad manners not to tell your FWB that you wanted to fool around with someone else in your small group of mutual friends.  Again, that was _if_ Mick had slept with Wally.  Which he most likely hadn’t.   And, of course, Ray had spent the whole day with another man so what did that say about how prepared he was for exclusivity, if Mick would even want that.  

After Kendra, Ray deliberately avoided romantic entanglement.  It wasn’t terribly difficult to arrange hookups if he was in the mood, sometimes within minutes of the Waverider landing in _real time_.  It was hard to keep track of the passage of actual time outside the ship, so Ray kept a calendar to ground himself in the reality he knew he would have to rejoin one day.  As he crossed off the date he reflected on how much fun it had been pretending to be like his old self.   New Ray had crazy adventures, but he didn’t get to dress up to go on dates or make love in the afternoon on a big bed with the sun streaming in the room.   

What he had going on with Mick might not be a real relationship, but they had forged a bond of friendship that kept Ray from feeling alone and adrift.  It wasn't worth risking that to ask Mick about why Wally had been in his room.   

Ray had found being the object of Mick Rory’s lust exciting and the teensiest bit terrifying.  It was like there was a tiger on the ship, and he never knew when it would pounce on him, or how hard it would bite, but he had no intention of hiding from the beast.    

Because they always went to Mick’s quarters it was his responsibility to keep supplies on hand.  Ray had to hide his smile when they’d finally used up a bottle of lubricant and Mick had to obtain a new one.  “You like this kind best, right?” he mumbled.

Ray nodded. “Yeah, it lasts longer and doesn’t feel sticky later…which I could just show you instead of talking about it.”  He pulled Mick in for a long slow kiss, darting his tongue over chapped lips and running his fingers along the curve of his ears.  When there were no complaints, Ray experienced the thrill of discovering something that was not only tolerated by the other man, but that he found enjoyable.  He filed the information away for future use.  The first thing Ray had learned was that Mick preferred to have the lights down low before getting undressed.  He didn’t seem ashamed of his body, but at the same time preferred not to be on display.  Ray thought it was an amazing body and dreamed of being able to explore it completely, though Mick had made it clear from the start that certain areas were off limits.  Squeezing his buttocks or pressing a finger to the perineum during fellatio was allowed, but going any lower would bring an abrupt end to the evening.

In general Mick’s approach to sex was very point A to point B – follow the straight line.  Getting Mick to verbalize his desires was like pulling teeth.  Ray was left to guess whether whether the ex-con would be impressed or horrified if Ray went into reverse cowboy without warning.  Even direct questioning wasn't always helpful.

“Do you like being touched here?”

“Nah.”

“Are they over sensitive or…”

“Just don’t.”

 

He’d tried games.  “Mick, close your eyes.  Let’s play hot or cold.”

Mick picked up his magic 8-ball “Does Ray want to get fucked tonight? Ooh, signs unclear.”

 

Once he’d tried to use pornography for illustrative purposes.  “We don’t have to watch the whole video.  I just wanted to show you what I meant when I said…”

Mick’s sour expression spoke volumes.  “I don’t wanna look at some other guys’ pale asses.”

Ray was bemused.  “What do you think we look like when we’re together?”

“I dunno. I’m not looking in a mirror.  I’m busy doin’ stuff - in the dark like you’re s’posed to.”  His expression darkened abruptly. “What’s this shit?”  He jabbed his finger at the tablet toward something called “Prison guard muscle fuck”. 

Ray gasped and snapped the tablet’s cover closed.  “The website generates recommendations based on other stuff I’ve watched.  Mick, I swear I don’t go looking for stuff like that.”

“Good.  Cuz that’s not cool.”

Ray managed to divert his attention to the stack of books he’d brought with him that evening.  “I picked a few of my favorites.  I thought you might like them too.”

 

Over time Ray was pleased to observe an increase in the amount of playful touching and post-coital cuddling.    Occasionally, though he would undoubtedly deny it, Mick would doze off for a few minutes before they disengaged completely.  Then he’d wake up with a jerk, looking positively skittish, which was Ray’s cue to politely excuse himself and return to his own room.

One night after a particularly successful mission where no one on the team had gotten injured, traumatized, or even annoyed, there was time for a bit of tenderness; warm kisses accompanied slowly running their hands over each other’s bodies.  “I like it when you bite,” Ray groaned in response to a nip on the neck.

“Ya mean like this?” Mick bent his head and grazed his teeth over recently bared pectoral.  Nibbling and hard sucking continued until he was practically chewing on Ray’s nipples, all of which effectively melted the younger man into a puddle of lustful need. 

Their hands bumped together as they both reached for the lubricant.  “I could help,” Mick suggested, his voice husky with obvious excitement.  Ray bit his lip, determined not to scare Mick away from another intimate _first_ for the two of them.  For several minutes Ray was happy to lie back on the blankets piled on the floor with three thick fingers stretching him, and when he rolled onto his side, preparing to assume a standard all fours position, Mick made a soft questioning sound. “You could stay on your back if you wanted, unless it hurts more or somethin’.”

Ray chuckled.  “No. It’s just that I’m so tall.”  He paused, feeling oddly embarrassed. “I'm worried that I look stupid with my legs in the air.  Plus, I can have trouble keeping quiet.”

Mick looked thoughtful.  “You ain’t that loud.  And y'can wrap your legs around me; let me know I’m doin’ all right.”

Ray was agreeable.  He stretched out on his back and opened his arms, welcoming the weight of the other man on him.  He buried his face in Mick’s shoulder when they were joined, whispering encouragement.  He floated on post-orgasmic bliss all the way back to his room, unable to wipe the smile from his face.


	4. Four

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Getting into the events of S4

As Ray had predicted, Nate was supportive of Wally’s continuing quest for enlightenment, and only moped around for a day after his departure.  The Legends continued to tie up loose anachronisms, while barely screwing up history, under the watchful eye of the Time Bureau.  Then, somehow, they were done.  There was a party, with cake.  But there was no time to rest on their laurels as they quickly discovered, as John Constantine had warned, they’d closed the barn door after quite a few horses, or, in this case, unicorns, had escaped.

Thankfully, the Legends weathered their first magical adventure with a minimal loss of dignity.  It took Mick the longest to shake off the effects of unicorn’s hallucinogenic goo.  “Who lost a what?” he asked when Sara told him how the creature had been banished. 

Ray crossed his arms over his chest and cringed in sympathy for Gary.  “Where’s Nate?”

Sara explained that he was going to stick around in 2018 to spend some time with his parents after being estranged for nearly two years.  “Oh, well, good for him then,” Ray remarked, knowing that Nate had always hoped for a better relationship with his father.  He would have liked to get Nate's take on the confusing situation Ray found himself in.  He’d confessed to Zari that he was attracted to Nora Dahrk, but hadn’t gone so far as to tell her he’d also been sleeping with Mick.  Ray had been Nate’s shoulder to cry on after Amaya returned to her home and time.  It would be nice if the historian could return the favor and help him figure out a few things.

Ray had no regrets about his decision to give Nora Dahrk the time stone.  He truly believed that Nora deserved the chance to find out who she was outside of a demon’s vessel.  She was a clever, capable woman; beautiful too.  That not escaped Ray’s notice despite the circumstances surrounding the bulk of the time they had spent together.  Initially, when Nate asked if Nora was hot it struck Ray as an odd question considering she’d inflicted a fair amount of pain while he’d been Damien Dahrk’s prisoner.  Ray just wasn’t into that sort of thing, though he didn’t think spankings counted as torture, even if he had been called a very naughty vigilante the last time he’d gotten one.  Still, there was no denying that he had a crush on Nora now.  It was her he’d pictured while under the influence.  Things had definitely cooled between him and Mick, though Ray wasn’t sure why.   Perhaps he owed it to himself to explore the possibilities with Nora. 

Xxx

Mick wanted to forget the whole dumb day.  He didn’t know which was worse, seeing a giant Axel and telling him he loved him, or acting like a complete dumbass with Nate.   Ray made out with a tree, which was worth a chuckle, although the way he’d been cooing while sucking face with an oak made Mick wonder who Ray had been thinking about.  Haircut sure didn’t talk sweet to him like that.

Not that Mick had the right to make demands of Ray’s attention.  Hell, Haircut was probably wonderin’ why Mick hadn’t asked him over for a couple weeks.  He wasn’t entirely sure he knew why either.  He kept thinking back to his talk with the kid.

\---

“Why is it so hard for you to admit this thing you have with Ray is important to you – that it’s special?” Wally inquired with genuine interest.

Mick scowled.  “Can’t be,” he insisted.  “Not s’posed to be like that.”

Wally set down his fourth beer.  “For anyone, or just you?”

Mick deflected.  “It’s easy for a young guy like you to talk.  You don’t know…”

“Hey, I’m aware that your life and mine have been _very_ different.  I’m not about to tell you how to live.  But I also don’t believe that either of us are bound to any preconceived notion of who we are or how our lives would turn out.  I have powers.  You’ve traveled in time and seen the most amazing things.”

“I’ve seen horrors you can’t imagine,” Mick intoned before shaking his head, banishing the remnant of Chronos, and stuffing a few pretzels in his mouth.  “Yeah there’s cool stuff out here.”

Wally continued.  “I don’t even know what to call normal these days, what with metas and other Earths and crazy people trying to take over the world.   I admire my sister and Barry for grasping whatever happiness they can find.”

“Ray’s the happy one,” Mick mused.

“Yeah, and you’re the dark, brooding one,” Wally teased.  “Simplify the matter for yourself.  Do you like him?”

“Sure. Wouldn’t have asked him to be my partner if I couldn’t stand him.”

“Good.  It’s clear that you trust him, and maybe he’s gotten closer to you than most people.”

“I guess.”

“So, why is it so hard to admit that you might have stronger feelings for him, especially since you’ve been getting to know each other intimately.”

Mick’s head was starting to ache with the effort of grasping what the kid was trying to get at.  His face screwed up with a mixture of disgust and pain.  “We’re just screwin’ around.  That’s all it can be.”  He turned away to avoid Wally’s pitying look. 

\--- 

He needed professional help, and Mick was fortunate that his shrink didn’t charge by the hour.  Not only was he uninsured, but he did not receive monetary compensation for his valiant efforts to keep the team from being killed by their own stupidity.  “Gideon? You busy? I, uh, need to talk.”

“I can always make time for you, Mister Rory.” 

“I finished those articles about folks who only do stuff when they’re in certain places, like prison.”

“Situation-specific sexuality?”

“Yeah that.”

“Do you have any questions about the material?”

“Nah.  It makes sense.  I looked up the words I didn’t know and tried to focus on what it said, not how it made me feel right away.  It’s hard to remember everything about that part of my past.  When I try, it feels bad.”

“Please elaborate.  Does the act of remembering cause pain?  Or is it a matter of viewing your actions as negative?”

“That last one.  I know I did things that weren’t right.   I was a bad person.” Times like this, Mick was glad that Gideon wasn’t a real person, with a face he had to look at when he said stuff.

“Come now, Mister Rory.  In our discussion regarding the nature of man I conveyed to you the points of view of several philosophers and theologians that no one is inherently good or evil.  Doing _bad_ things does not make one essentially so.”

“I killed that Time Pig.” Mick’s voice dropped to a whisper.  “I enjoyed it.”

“Time Master Declan committed numerous atrocities against you.  While my programming prevents me from condoning your actions, I cannot consider them entirely unjustified.”

Mick cleared his throat.   “I don’t like that I liked it, and I ain’t just sayin’ that.”

“I have the utmost confidence that your desire to change your behavior is genuine, Mister Rory.  That is why I agreed to counsel you, though I am not a certified psychologist.”

“You know stuff, Gideon.  That’s all I need.”

“Returning to the matter at hand, is there anything you would like to discuss regarding the sexual activities you engaged in while incarcerated?”

“Only that I never forced anybody to do anything, but, um, I got sex in trade for favors.   Sometimes I owed somebody a favor.  That’s just how it works inside.  I dunno if Ray would understand.”

“As always I believe it would be wise to speak to Doctor Palmer directly if there are things you would like him to know about your past, or indeed, your present concerns.”

“Where would I start? Sorry, Ray. I blew guys when I had to and fucked ‘em when I wanted to cuz I had a lotta time on my hands.  I started messing with you because I was bored, but I like you and I guess that makes me a fag.”

“Mister Rory, denigrating yourself is not productive.”

“Ugh, I know. Sorry, Gideon.”

“Perhaps you should re-read the guide for combatting negative self-talk.  I will also find you some pertinent works on the subject of forgiveness.”

“Fine. Can we be done now?”

“I believe you should reconsider viewing the educational films I sent to your tablet.”

“Still can’t believe you sent me porn.”

“Though the content is explicit, Mister Rory, I can assure you that it is also instructive.   The first piece was created in the 23rd century to educate young men…”

Mick cut her off with gagging sounds.  “I’m definitely not watching a sex ed film. Saw plenty of those in juvie. I haven’t knocked anyone up yet and I’ve only had the clap two, maybe three, times.  I’ll stick to the reading list, and before you ask…”

“I am bound to ask, Mister Rory, if you are having thoughts of wanting to hurt yourself or others.”

“Mostly others, and not all the time.”

“Good enough, Mister Rory. I believe the magic alert is sounding”


	5. Five

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I try my hand at a magical adventure

“Ugh not the 70s again,” Mick grumbled at the start of the mission briefing.

Constantine smirked.  “S’all right, Mate.  We don’t all have the necks for flared collars, or necks at all.” A rumbling sound came from Mick that generally preceded a fist to someone’s face, prompting Sara stepped between the two men. 

“Cool it.  Looks like a small crime spree committed on Castro street in San Francisco.”

“How is it magical?” asked Ray. 

Sara continued reading.  “Businesses were all robbed in broad daylight when the proprietors, and customers, were overwhelmed with a sense of peace and love.”

“Better not be more unicorn spooge,” Mick grumbled. 

“A love spell?” Zari speculated.

Sara continued “Shop owners reported watching their tills being emptied while they found themselves unable to avoid hugging and kissing people they had just met.”

Constantine seemed skeptical.  “It’s Castro, not the Bible Belt.  People making out in the street isn’t unusual.”

“We need to experience it first hand,” Ray speculated.  “If one of us is under the influence it’ll be obvious and then the others can move to our location.”

“Pack your chapstick, mate,” John teased. 

 

Gideon advised them on the dress code.  Constantine talked Mick into a leather cap, saying it was very Tom of Finland.  Zari stifled a giggle even as Mick reminded them that he could “Google that shit later” and mete out punishment accordingly. 

Castro street didn’t look like it was experiencing a crime wave.   It was a normal-looking neighborhood, apart from the clusters of young men in tight jeans casually hanging out on a sunny afternoon.   Ray started explaining that the area had become a haven for homosexual men discharged from the armed forces after World War Two.  Sara shushed him.  “Mama’s enjoyin’ the sights.”

“This is some serious eye candy,” Zari added.

“Gonna have to hose you hens down,” Constantine warned. 

Mick interrupted over the coms.  “Can it.  I got eyes on someone suspicious.”

“Rory, if you just mean John we’re going to have another team meeting,” Sara warned. 

“I said suspicious, not definitely up to no good.  Short guy, two o’clock, headin’ into the music store.”

“I’m on it,” Ray called as he followed the nervous-looking young man wearing worn corduroy trousers.  He thumbed through the folk LPs before looking toward the cashier as he reached into his pocket.  He took a deep breath and threw something down onto the floor.  Violet smoke began emanating from the point of impact.  “Fire in the hole,” Ray declared with a cough.  The record store was sparsely populated, but people immediately began pairing up, first gazing deeply into each other’s eyes then initiating deep, soulful kisses. 

“Hold on, Haircut,” Mick shouted.  “Almost there.”

“Actually, I think I’m okay.  I’m going to talk to him.  Hey, you, magic person.”

The man had opened the cash register and was stuffing money in his pockets when he paused to stare at Ray, obviously confused.  “Yeah you,” Ray indicated.  “You don’t have to do this.  If you’re in some kind of trouble, maybe we could help.”

“We don’t have time for that, Ray,” Sara warned. 

Mick burst through the doors and was about to tackle the guy when he suddenly burst into tears.  “Please don’t hurt me! I need the money so me and Iggy can get away.   You don’t know how hard it is for us these days.”

Mick was thrown for a loop.   “Boss, it’s just a kid,” he reported.  “How about you stop all the weird smoochin’ going on and I don’t knock you out.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t.  I don’t make the charms.”

Ray ushered him out of the shop, while Mick pocketed whatever was left in the till.  They went down the street to an alleyway so they would be out of sight when the police arrived.  “What’s your name, kid?” Mick asked.

“Toby.”

Sara and Zari caught up, making sure they weren’t followed.  “John, you coming?” Sara inquired.

“Two shakes, Love.  I’m checkin’ out the remains of the love bomb.  Found some hairs.  By any chance does Toby have hooves?”

Sara gave Toby a once over.  “I don’t wanna make you strip down so can you just wiggle your toes?”  He obliged and the tops of his sneakers flexed.    “Regular human here, John.”

Toby spoke up.  “I’m human, but Iggy, my boyfriend, he’s a faun.  He used to have a flute that could charm people so they left him alone, but it got stolen when he came to the New World so we have to pay for protection or people will find him and hurt him.  Iggy’s legs are really noticeable, even with bell bottoms, so I do the jobs.  We don’t hurt anybody, I swear. Most folks think it’s a prank. I didn’t know we’d get in trouble with the magic cops.”

“Not cops,” Mick groused.

“You keep hitting the same area.  That’s enough to attract attention to yourself,” Ray informed Toby.  “Why don’t you take us to Iggy, and we’ll see what we can do to straighten this all out.”

“Um, okay, but don’t stare at his horns.”

 

Toby led the team to the apartment he shared with Iggy, who, as he predicted, was none too pleased to see strangers.  Toby began to explain that they wanted to help, and it probably didn’t hurt that Mick looked like he wouldn’t be opposed to headbutting someone.  “Thought he said his boyfriend was a deer,” he muttered.

Ray took a minute to explain that fauns were mythical (allegedly) half-goat people.  “Are they supposed be in California in 1972?” he asked Constantine.

“They’re as natural as you and me,” Constantine assured them.  “Don’t have an easy time of it in the 20th century.  Especially without their music.”

“So Iggy isn’t the magical fugitive,” Zari guessed.    

“Nope, but whoever gave him the little love bombs is.  Fauns aren’t typically magic practitioners, and if Iggy had the skills to make these on his own, well then he wouldn’t be livin’ in fear.”

Once Iggy had calmed down, he approached the group.  “Thank you for not hurting Toby.  He isn’t a bad person.  I was trying to live in the shadows, and save up for a charm that will let me pass for human when I met Toby.  We’ve been together for almost six months.  He doesn’t even care about my messed up horns.”  Iggy’s hands went instinctively to his head, drawing attention to the fact that his horns were worn and chipped in places.

“Just makes you unique,” Ray attested. 

Toby smiled and kissed Iggy on the cheek, making him blush under his scruffy beard.    
“The robberies were Gregor’s idea.  He makes the charms.”

“Why don’t we pay him a visit?” Sara suggested.

Constantine agreed.  “After that I’ll find you a name of someone who can help you get that illusion charm at a discount.”

Gregor was officially not a nice man, and he was running a protection racket that had ensnared a number of vulnerable people and creatures in the neighborhood.   Unfortunately, he managed to throw down another charm before he was returned to his dimensional prison.  Ray had a coughing fit, but otherwise didn’t seem to be affected.  Zari swooned and was caught by John while Mick jumped out the window onto the fire escape to avoid Sara. 

“Can you stop this?” Ray asked hopefully as  Constantine was dodged Zari’s attempts to rub noses with him. 

“Come on, Johnny.  Just a couple kisses,” she pleaded.

“No can do, Pet.  This’ll be over in a few minutes.”

 

When it was finally over John lit up a cigarette and patted a mortified Zari on the back while Mick stubbornly refused to look at Sara. Everyone agreed that stopping for a drink was a great idea.   Sara was peppering Constantine with questions on the walk back to the Waverider.  “How is it that you, Ray, and Mick were immune?” 

“Love spells and charms are a dime a dozen, and they all have loopholes.  Some only work on people who’ve already experienced attraction for each another.  Some are ineffective if a person’s heart already belongs to another.  I suppose it wouldn’t work if you didn’t have a heart at all, which explains why I was fine.”  Sara and Zari shook their heads in unison.

 

The streets were filling with people as evening fell.  Ray noticed Mick’s head swiveling to stare at couples walking arm in arm.  “Penny for your thoughts,” he said quietly.

“They look like regular guys.”

“Pretty sure that’s what they are.”

“Yeah, but that’s not what I thought for a long time.”

Ray leaned in so they could speak privately.  “Talk to me.”

“You didn’t meet my old man in ‘Nam.  He wasn’t exactly tolerant of this _lifestyle_.  You know, I’m alive in this time, across the country; two years old this summer.  Mom showed me a picture once.  She put me in this stupid sailor suit and had flowers in my hair.  She used to brush it and keep it nice but didn’t cut it – like I guess folks do with little kids.  When he got home from work my dad was pissed off.  Yelled at her and got out the scissors.  Said she might be a hippie but he wasn’t raisin’ a pansy.  He said stuff like that all the time: get tough, be a man, stop being a pussy. It’s like maybe he could see I wasn’t right, even when I was small.  I wasn’t ever gonna be a regular guy.  Don’t know why I keep trying.”

Ray pressed a hand discreetly against the small of Mick’s back.  “Hey now, we’ve been over this.  We can’t be sure what sorts of problems you had as a child, but they weren’t your fault or your parents’.  And you’re not an average Joe, because you’re a legend.  You have a statue, remember?”

Mick took a deep breath and nodded slowly. “Yeah, I do.  Thanks for listenin’, Haircut.” 

 

Ray decided to check back in with Mick again once the ship was in transit.  “Weird day, huh?”

“They’re gettin’ weirder all the time,” Mick agreed.  “You came out okay.  Didn’t have to kiss Trenchcoat or nothin’.”

Ray shuddered, thinking of the tobacco laden lips of John Constantine.  “Thank goodness.  You know I’m always here for you if you need to talk to me, or, uh, do other stuff.”  He chuckled nervously.

Mick leered at him.  “That actually sounds like a not bad idea.”

“See you in ten.”

 

Mick was acting more impatient than usual and quickly pulled Ray’s shirt off.  He stopped, staring at the steel rings looped through the other man’s nipples.  “What the?”

Ray giggled. “I got them on a whim.  Thought if they chafed under the suit I’d take them out, but so far it’s been okay so I’m keeping them.”

Shrugging, Mick gave the right one a tug, making Ray gasp and shiver. “Long as you didn’t get ‘em on my account.”

“Nope.  Did it because I wanted to.”

Ray unbuttoned his jeans and began to slide them over his hips, when Mick stopped him again. “Whoa-what’s that you got on?”

“It’s a little bit of leather strapping.  Thought it might be fun, but I can see that you don’t agree so I can just take it off in a minute.  Show me where you want me and I’ll get in position.”  He saw Mick’s brow furrow and his face contort.

“I can’t do this.”  His voice was flat. 

“Do what?”  Ray was embarrassed by the wavering of his own voice.  

Mick gestured toward Ray and then himself.  “This.  I thought I could, but…it was supposed be easy an’ now you’re coming over wearing fancy drawers and having expectations.” 

Ray tried to play off his discomfort with humor.  “Really not underwear so much as a decoration, and the only expectation I have is that you and I will have fun like we always do.  I should have seen that you were still upset.” He put his shirt back on.  “Was it the mission, or something else?”

Head shaking, Mick took several steps backward.  “There’s no happily ever after!” he shouted.

“If you say so, Mick.  I suppose as it relates to you and me specifically, I’d like to point out that I haven’t asked you for any sort of commitment.”

“No, but you will.  You can’t help it.  I’m just not like you, Haircut.  I can’t be on both teams.”

Ray was befuddled.  “Are you talking about being bisexual?   We’ve been having sex for a few months now and I am well aware that your head still turns every time a nice pair of tits goes by.”

“Exactly.”  Mick seized on that one point.  “You and me doin’ stuff doesn’t have to mean I’m, uh,…look you were here and willin’.”

Ray flinched.  It wouldn’t be the first time he’d been chosen out of convenience.  “Please listen to what you’re saying, Mick.  I understand that you’re upset, but you’re capable of showing some consideration for my feelings.”

“See- feelings – that’s always the problem.  You’re like that Toby kid, thinkin’ you’re part of some happy-ass love story with his goat boyfriend.  He’s clinging to something cuz it feels good even if deep down he knows it ain’t right.”

“I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“I can’t be queer for you.  Don’t know why you want me anyway.  You’re a decent guy who can get a woman if he wants.  Why you wanna be not normal?”

Ray’s jaw clenched.  “Stop right there. You know I’m always willing to listen to you talk through whatever is bothering you, but don't talk to me like I don't know this is a defense mechanism.” Ray pulled his shoulders back and held his head high. “I think I should leave now.  I won’t stand here and be your emotional punching bag.”

Ray left, his face aflame with anger and embarrassment.    He cleaned his lab, dusted the library, and reorganized the dry goods in the kitchen before he tried to sleep.  Knowing that it had been inevitable that Mick would lash out at him didn’t make it any less painful.  Ray spoke aloud to the empty room.  “Gideon, I know you can’t break confidence, but please tell me, is he still talking to you?”

“He is, Doctor Palmer.”

“Thank you, Gideon.”

“If I may say Doctor Palmer, perhaps you should find someone to talk to.  Your well-being is also important.”

“I miss Nate,” Ray said with a sigh.  “I could really use a friend like him right now.”


	6. Six

Ray fought daily against the familiar urge to wallow in self-pity.  It might be a cliché, as well as a number one hit for Whitney Houston, but learning to love himself was the greatest love of all.  It might have taken forty years, but he was finally comfortable in his own skin.   He felt it was high time to stop second guessing himself and trust his gut.   It’s why he gave Nora the time stone, and why he knew he’d made the right call with Charlie.  He was ticked off that the others hadn’t seen the situation the same way.  Mick’s jibe was especially hurtful, and Ray wasn’t going to let it slide.

To Mick’s credit, he attempted to apologize. “Look Haircut, I know you didn’t let Nora walk just ‘cuz you wanna…”

“Stop.”  Ray cut him off sharply.  “It was a crappy thing to say, but that’s not why I’m angry right now.  I know Sara has to think of the safety of the team and the success of the mission first.  That’s her job as captain, but I don’t get why you were so keen to send Charlie back to hell when you knew as well as I did that she wasn’t doing anything truly evil.  I could have sworn that you know me better than anyone else on this ship, and I thought I could count on you to back me up regardless of whatever else is going on between us.”  Not waiting for a response, Ray turned and walked away. 

He proceeded to the kitchen where he assembled a sandwich of ridiculous proportions, incorporating meats that likely contained an unacceptable level of nitrates, and took it with him to the med bay so Gideon could laser off the Corgi with a Mohawk on his forearm.  It was cute, and getting it had been a rush, but he hadn’t chosen it for himself and it just didn’t fit somehow.   “Gideon, may I assume that you can you create tattoos as well as remove them?”

“Indeed, Doctor Palmer.  Are you considering a tramp stamp, as Mister Rory speculated?”

“What? No.  I’ve never been able to decide for sure what I want etched into my skin for the rest of my life, but today I’m thinking I should probably have “manage your expectations” somewhere that I can see it often.” 

“I would have thought you’d pick “listen to your heart”,” Zari observed as she entered the room.   

"Yeah, because that’s never caused problems,” Ray murmured, taking a bite of sandwich.   

Zari raised an eyebrow.  “Is everyone on this ship eating and/or drinking their feelings tonight?”

“Whattayamean?”  Ray asked as he caught an escaping pickle with his tongue.

“Let’s see, you’re eating between meals.  I managed to cut John off before _my_ liver shriveled up, and I just saw Mick walk by with a bucket of chicken wings.”

“That’s his comfort food,” Ray explained.  
“I know that, Ray.  What’s he upset about?”

Ray scowled.  “Ask him.  I’m not responsible for his feelings.”

Zari smiled.  “Wow, that is true, but to hear it from you is a surprise. You are assertive as all get out today.”

He huffed with amusement. “Might not be a punk, but I’m not a doormat either.”

XXX

Why was Haircut mad at him?  Mick wasn’t the one crushing on a witch and bringing strange new people on board.  Dealing with another Englishman was stressful enough, and now the new chick had Amaya’s face.  He missed Amaya and how she always seemed to be able to head off his bad moods with a few kind words and or a thoughtful look.  She’d been a good friend.  At least he still had Boss, Pretty, and Z to count on.  Sara called them a family, but that word made him uneasy.   Friends played video games and watched movies together, or sometimes talked about important stuff like books they liked, and might be trying to write.  In Mick’s mind family meant expectations and judgement.  Friends was good enough.  Ray was really good at making friends, mostly because he could talk to almost anybody about anything.  Mick wondered what Ray talked about with Nate and Zari? He’d keep his mouth shut about stuff like how he sort of giggled the first time Haircut had kissed his ears.  But he might tell someone how Mick had hurt his feelings, even if Mick hadn’t meant to do it.  Mick had gotten scared, and angry that he was scared, and then words started coming out before he could think about where they were coming from.  He could try to take it all back, but Ray wouldn’t let it go that easily.  Ray would want him to work through it.  He had to hope that Ray could be patient while he tried to do that.

**xxx**

Ray stood by, helpless, as Nora surrendered herself to the Time Bureau.  He offered to stay and speak on her behalf, but not only were the agents unwilling to listen to him, Nora didn’t seem terribly eager for him to hang around either.  Before she was dragged off, she thanked Ray for believing in her, but made it clear that wanted to find her way on her own terms, alone. 

He decided to take a walk and ended up trudging through a nearby park where he silently berated himself for having been so foolish as to think that he and Nora had shared some unspoken connection.  His phone buzzed for a few minutes before he realized that he was receiving notifications from the Upswipze app.  He’d created a profile only to be able to test the algorithms, or so he told himself.  Apparently, someone had swiped up, which reminded Ray of the last time he’d seen his old boss Alan.  Ray cringed.  He didn’t like Alan, but he didn’t want him dead.  Fortunately Alan had survived his meeting with Damien and Nora Dahrk.  The memory of that day made his head spin.  Before he could think about how he might regret it later, Ray decided to respond to “DC gal” and make plans to meet her for a drink.

Two hours later he was rolling on the condom she’d thrown at him while she shimmied out of her skirt.  He lifted her up and slammed her back against the wall of her crappy studio apartment with enough force to shake plaster loose.  He thrust into her roughly while she scratched at his back and shouted, “Roy!”  The dark cloud that had been following up returned to its place above his head as soon as he’d zipped up his jeans.  What the hell was he doing?  That's not the kind of man he wanted to be.   

It was after dark when the taxi dropped him at the Heywood residence.   To his surprise, Ava answered the door. She looked him over disapprovingly.  “Thanks for returning my fugitive; you know, the one you helped escape.”  His face fell.

“I was hoping to see, uh, never mind.  I just want to get home please, unless you’re going to throw me in a cell too.  I probably deserve it.” 

Ava sighed. “Not tonight, Ray.” She opened a portal to the Waverider and ushered him through.

 

Ray went to the medbay for some Tylenol only to find Zari filling John in on the team’s adventure in Japan.  She gave Ray the abridged version.

“Don’t forget Garima,” John added, waggling his eyebrows. 

“Who?”  Ray was distracted.

“Rory’s imaginary girlfriend with the triple triple Cs,” Zari informed him.  “She saved the day in the battle against a not-giant, but very aggressive, octopus.”  Ray was pleased to hear that his mobile shrinking tech had been useful.

“Where’d you drop Nora off, mate?” John inquired.  Ray summarized Nora’s return to Time Bureau custody, avoiding any mention of his subsequent poor choices.

Zari caught up to him in the kitchen where she talked him into a piece of pumpkin pie because, “Apparently it’s Thanksgiving somewhen”. 

“Tell me about Mick’s writing,” Ray prodded. “I’ve seen the typewriter, but he’s never let me read anything.”

Zari got out the whipped cream and buried her pie in it.  “He was worried we’d laugh at him.  You’ve heard the things people say.  Like they’re surprised he can even read.”

“I hate that,” Ray commented.  “Even if he couldn’t read because of a learning disability or a lack of education, he’s never been unintelligent.  I should have spoken up when Rip and Martin talked down to him.”

“He knows who his friends are,” Zari assured him.  “Speaking of which. I know you’re missing Nate. It’s like he moved to a different neighborhood, but we get to see him at school sometimes.  Why don’t you tell me what’s bugging you?”

“I don’t wanna dump on you all the time, Z.  Some stuff I have to figure out on my own.  Tell me about this Garima.”

Just then, Mick appeared, seeking sustenance. “You save me a piece?” he asked, jabbing an accusing finger.

“It’s pumpkin, not sweet potato,” Ray mumbled around his last bite. 

Mick made a face.  “Forget it then.  Uh, when did I tell you I liked sweet potato pie?”

Ray shrugged.  “When did you tell me that you wrote novels?”

Zari intervened. “They’re really good.  You should show him some time, Mick.”

Both men made noncommittal sounds.  Mick began rummaging in the fridge, while Zari returned her attention Ray’s woes.

“Are you sure Nora doesn’t like-like you?”

Ray swallowed.  He was embarrassed, but too tired to dissemble.  “I thought so, but then she gave me the ‘oh Ray’ face.”

“The what?” Mick asked, as he unwrapped a block of cheese. 

“The face people make when they have to tell me something they know will hurt my feelings.  “Oh Ray, I’m sorry if you thought we might get back together.  I’m already dating your brother.  Oh Ray, I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship.  Oh Ray, you’re good enough in the sack, but I’d rather watch snails mate than spend my free time with you.”

“Ouch.” Zari winced.

“Yeah, and he was an expert on gastropods so....”

“Double ouch,” Mick chimed in.  “Least she didn’t turn you into a pig.  I had such a stomach ache after that.”

Ray laughed in spite of himself.  “I still wish Gideon had taken a picture of you lying on the floor surrounded by broken tortilla chips, touching you nose to make sure it had returned to normal.”

“Well it _is_ his best feature,” Zari said with a wink. Mick nodded vigorously in agreement.  Ray smiled, feeling just a bit better.

Before bed Ray tried to come up with a list of the things he had always thought he’d have done before he turned forty, but now he might try to accomplish over the course of the year.  (1) Body modification – check; (2) experience a mind-altering substance – check; (3) refine chili recipe – on hold until Sara says her nose can handle it; (4) modify the A.T.O.M suit so it can be immersed in water – work in progress.  He decided that staying busy was the key.  He needed work to occupy his mind so he didn’t have time to worry needlessly about matters of the heart.  Things would work out eventually.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought Mick's crack was rude as hell and I don't think Ray would have let it slide.


	7. Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Re-edited the day after posting because in retrospect I think I was falling asleep as I did my final edit. Apologies for any confusion it caused.

Brigit’s diary wasn’t the last magical item the Legends needed to keep out of the wrong hands.  The Legends found themselves negotiating with a young witch named Hazel had had come into possession of a dagger that wasn't awfully dangerous by itself, but could be combined with other components to allow someone to create some “nasty bits of spellwork” according to Constantine.  Hazel’s new boyfriend, who had gone from flirting with the darker side of magic to French kissing it under the bleachers, had figured out what he could do with the dagger and was doing his best to get it from her. Fortunately, the boyfriend was a jerk and none too subtle about his intentions to use Hazel's affection to his advantage.  If Zari could convince the girl to hand over the magical object the odds were good that no one had to wear their intestines on the outside.  The team confronted Hazel in the crypt where, in the eerie quiet, they could almost hear her heart breaking.   Hazel looked at the dulled blade in her hand, likely wondering something so plain in appearance had brought her to this point.   “I-I did everything he asked,” she sputtered, her voice breaking.  “He needs me, and he knows I’m devoted to him.  He’ll take me with him. You’ll see.”

Zari approached cautiously.  “No, he won’t. You saw the grimoire he stole.  You know what kind of magic is in there.  He’s in this only for himself.  He took off as soon as we showed up and left you to fend for yourself. He had no way of knowing we weren't going to hurt either of you.”  Sensing an imminent emotional outburst, Mick and Charlie began inching backward.  Zari shot Ray a look that said she wanted him to tag in and help talk Hazel down.  He held out his hands and bent at the waist so as not to tower over her. “I can see that you’re struggling to make sense of all this, and it’s fine if you can’t right now.  It’s not your fault you ended up in the middle of this.  You love him.  I’m not going tell you that's wrong. It feels amazing to love someone, but how long can that feeling last if it isn't returned?  When someone wants you in their life, they make room for you."  Hazel’s arm began to shake, and she lowered the dagger a bit while Ray's words sank in. He continued speaking earnestly. “I’ve spent too much time thinking either that I didn’t need anything in return from the people that I loved, or worse, that I didn’t deserve anything.  These people are my friends – my family - and I keep all of them in here.”  He tapped the left side of his chest.  “I believe they have a place for me as well.  You just haven’t found the right person or people to team up with yet, but you will because you’re a good person, and you’re strong enough to walk away from this.”  The clang of cold metal onto cement was easily drowned out by Hazel’s sobbing.  Zari wrapped an arm around the girl’s shoulders and led her out into the daylight while Ray and Sara secured the artifact. 

 

Later that afternoon Ray was in the lab fiddling with the newest version of his anti-magic gun when Gideon spoke to him.  “Doctor Palmer, I require your assistance.”

“Of course, Gideon.  What can I do for you?”

“I am finding it difficult to select appropriate educational materials.”

“I’m happy to help, Gideon, though I’m not sure what I would know that you don’t.”

“I have access to varied types of media spanning the timeline, but I cannot tell you whether a particular painting is beautiful or a story moving because I am unable to assign meaning to such things.  I can only communicate what others have said about such works.  I am currently compiling a list of resources addressing matters of a sexual nature.”

“Hmm, erotica, like art, is a matter of taste.  It’s difficult to guess what another person finds stimulating without asking.”

“That is true, Doctor Palmer.  However, my intention is to inform without giving offense.  Thus far my recommendations have not been well received.  Perhaps it would be helpful if I said that I wish to find materials that might be of interest to a man who may, hypothetically of course, be experiencing internal conflict with regard to his sexuality.  He finds purely instructive materials too dry, and, conversely seems put off by relevant pornography.”

Ray chewed on the cap of his dry erase marker thoughtfully. “I think I understand your dilemma, Gideon.  Give me a few hours to put things together.”

 

The chime on Mick’s tablet alerted him of an incoming message.  Usually Zari sent him music or stupid videos. Otherwise he mostly received therapy related stuff from Gideon.  The subject line read _recommendations_ and contained several attachments.  Mick sighed as he clicked on the first.  A video started with a plain-looking young man was speaking directly to the camera.  “I was sure it had to hurt,” he said.  “How could it not?  When my buddy told me how much he liked it, I called him a liar.”

Though he knew he was alone in his room, Mick’s head swiveled to confirm that he had complete privacy. The video was made up of the first-hand accounts of dozens of men of varying ages, and from all walks of life.  They talked about their misconceptions, their fears, and, ultimately what they’d learned about sex and themselves.  Mick stood up and began to pace the length of his room.  It occurred to him that he’d been looking at the thing with Ray all wrong.  He’d been comparing it to furtive encounters in dark corners with men he wouldn’t dream of calling friend. He hadn't cared about their feelings, or even if they were they were uncomfortable. Mick realized he couldn't recall a single hiss or grimace of pain from Ray.   Hell, he'd even laughed the time he got _stuff_ in his eye.  He reached for the notebook that Gideon suggested he use as a journal, but had just ended up being a collection of random thoughts. _I didn’t hurt Ray,_ he scribbled.  Drumming the pen against the desktop, he knew there was more, but the words took a moment to come together.  _I made Ray feel good.  Sex with him was different – not like before._

His heart pounding, Mick decided that was enough self-reflection for the time being.  He skimmed the other stuff Gideon sent. There was an audio file containing excerpts from a book entitled “Anal Pleasure and Health”.  Mick thought that was gonna be a three beer read, so he opened up the article on Coming out to Yourself instead.

Obviously no one could know what he’d been reading, but Mick felt so self-conscious he decided to wait until everyone else had left the galley before making dinner for himself.  Later, after a few rounds with the punching bag he tried to flesh out some new story ideas, but couldn’t banish the anxiety that had crept under his skin.  Peeling off his gloves, he gave his scars a good scratching ignoring Gideon’s voice in the back of his head scolding him and insisting it wouldn’t provide long term relief.   Trying to sleep was useless, and booze didn't work fast enough when he was this amped up so he took advantage of Trenchcoat's absence to spend a little time with Garima. 

Xxx

Ray pulled himself up onto the Waverider's loading ramp and began shaking water off pieces of his exo-suit.  He squeezed out hair and frowned while mentally recalculating the changes he would have to make before a second trial.  Constantine was perched on a nearby crate taking a smoke break.  “How deep this time?”

“Twelve feet before seal failure.”

“No better than a swimming pool.  As I recall, you’re aiming for twice that.”

“I’ll keep trying,” Ray promised and started peeling off his wetsuit.  John made a show of covering his eyes as Ray flicked water at him.

“I'm sure that you’ve seen worse than me in my underwear.”

“I like to leave something to the imagination, big man,” John replied with a smirk.  “Nice jewelry though.”  He made circles in the air with his fingers, pointing at Ray’s nipple rings.  The scientist shrugged. 

“Yeah, they were sort of a birthday present to myself.”  He grabbed a towel and wrapped it around his midsection before entering the corridor.  He heard a wolf whistle as he passed by the library.  Charlie, Zari, and Sara were doing research.    

“Lookin' good Rayge.” Charlie called out.  "Bet your girlfriend likes 'em."  Zari elbowed her and Ray grimaced.

“Don’t have a girlfriend right now, or a boyfriend.  Thanks for reminding me though.”

Zari pretended to be shocked. "Tattoos and piercings, Ray? You used to be such a good boy."

“I’m working my way toward using bad language,” he warned.

Sara shook her head.  “Get dressed you delinquent. Meet me in the gym.  You’re overdue for a hand-to-hand refresher.”

 

Physical activity gave Ray a much-needed break from re-configuring the suit.  As usual, Sara tossed him around, but he managed to land a few hits and was able to dodge the worst blows from her staff.  “I know we haven’t had a lot of time to talk lot lately,” she started.  Ray huffed and threw a punch that she blocked easily.

“What’s there to talk about?  You aren’t using me in the field as much. You’re the captain. I imagine you're not pleased about me helping Nora escape, or the whole Charlie with Amaya's face situation.”

Sara tried to sweep his legs, but Ray jumped just high enough that he only stumbled.   “I had _concerns_ , but I can see why you gave Nora a second chance.  And I wish we’d had the time to discuss the fugitive situation in depth, because I think you would have convinced me to see things your way.” 

He stopped moving for a moment.  “Really?”

“Yes, really.  Ray, if I couldn’t trust your judgement we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands than Charlie.  I know you lead with your heart. You remind me to listen to mine.” 

Ray felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.  “You know, things got pretty rough for me last year.  Bouncing back wasn’t easy.”  

“Yeah, dying will do that to you.  You know, Ray, you’ve seemed more together lately for lack of a better word.”

“I’ve been working on _me_ ,” Ray explained before he made a sudden move for her arms.  Sara got out of the grapple and countered with a blow to his midsection.   If it weren’t for the padded shirt he wore for during training, he would have ended up with at least one cracked rib.  “Oof.  I was beginning to forget how much better you are at this.  Thanks for the reminder.”

Sara laughed.  “You’ve picked up some new moves.  I think I saw a few of Mick’s favorite jabs.”

“Yeah we trained together back before he got busy with...stuff."

“I suppose he has Garima to spar with these days,” she speculated, looking displeased.   Ray feinted left, then lunged and managed to knock her back as he kicked the staff from her hands.  She gave him a golf clap. “Seriously though, I’m no prude.  It's just a little creepy, right?”

Ray grinned.  “It’s weird as hell.  But who wouldn't want a walking, talking, monster-slaying sex doll who obeys- no, fulfills- your every whim?  Who wants to deal with messy things like other people’s needs?  Magic is wonderful.”  He swallowed hard and looked away from her surprised face.

She exhaled forcefully. “Welll then. That's certainly one way of looking at it.”

He shook his head.  “The truth is that I hardly remember a time when I didn’t love him.  Don't worry, Sara.  I won’t allow my feelings to screw up the team or the mission like I did before.”

Sara’s brow furrowed.  “Ray, I’m not thinking about that right now.  Does he know how you feel?”

“Probably.  I honestly don’t know how much it matters to him. We haven’t let it affect the way we act around one another and we’ll work figure it out eventually.  He needs to work some things out without me bugging him. We’ll see what happens.”

“For what it's worth, I’ve never seen him laugh like he does when he’s with you.”


	8. Eight

“Don’t remember the team meeting where we got on board with running a prison, Boss.”  Mick’s tone was grim, and it was clear he was unhappy. 

Sara was frustrated.  “I’m not happy about it either, but I don’t know what choice we have.”

“It’s a temporary solution,” Ray claimed.  “The Time Bureau houses the fugitives, and assesses their cases one by one.  Plus, the living spaces Ava authorized are pretty nice.”

Mick frowned.  “Don’t matter if you got extra pillows if ya ain’t free, Haircut.”  He waved a hand at Charlie.  “Can’t believe you’re okay with this.”

She shrugged.  “When the alternative's goin’ back to hell?  I’d take the pillows.”

“You might have to,” Mick replied, getting louder.  “You all think that because Nate’s there nothing bad’s gonna happen.  Ava’s all right for a suit, but she’s got other suits she answers to.  They start decidin’ who’s dangerous and who has to be locked up “for their own protection” and we’re in trouble. 

“I agree that it’s a slippery slope,” Zari interjected.  “So isn’t it better if we stay involved?”

“The more _involved_ we are the more people we got up in our business.  Then they start thinkin’ they can do it better’n us.  Englishman took it all away once and now the army or whatever is callin’ the shots.  We’ll all end up in those fancy cells. And don’t tell me it can’t happen or it’ll be all right ‘cuz not one of you ‘cept her knows what it’s like.”  He stalked off the bridge. 

After a pause, Charlie spoke up.  “Can’t say I’m not worried, mate.”  She walked away with Ray hot on her heels.   

“Charlie, wait,” he called after her.  “Could I please have a word with Mick before you start winding each other up?”

“We’re not grannies, Ray, scared of kids with long hair and loud music.  Our fears are real.”

“I know that. I would just like the chance to remind Mick that the team has his, and your, back and we wouldn’t…”

“You lot don’t get it.  Bein’ locked away writes itself on your bones.  Tellin’ him not to worry isn’t gonna make it all better.  You’ll never know how it was for ‘im.”

Ray stood his ground.  “I appreciate that you and Mick have being incarcerated in common.  I’m glad you have each other to talk to about the sorts of things I can’t understand, though I’d sure as heck try if you wanted to talk to me about them.  Please don’t tell me that I don’t get Mick.    We’ve been here, together, for almost five years.  We’ve gone through so much, and we’ve grown, as individuals and a team.  Mick’s my friend and no one can…”

Charlie’s eyebrows arched.  “Ray, I’m not trying to take him from you.  That’s not what this is about.”

“Isn’t it?  I see the way you two are together.  I don’t think drinking buddy covers it.”

She laughed loud and shrill.  “You think I wanna shag him?  Is that it, you’re jealous?”

Ray backpedaled.  “That’s not what I meant.  I just wanted you to understand that he means something to us – to me.”

“Still soundin’ a bit jealous.”

“Perhaps a bit overprotective,” Ray conceded. 

“He worries about you too, ya know.”

“He’s been trying to keep me from getting myself killed for a long time. He’s pretty darn good at it.”

 

As Ray feared, Mick was good and worked up by the time he found him in the gym, punching the daylights out of the weight bag.  The real battle had just begun.

“You set yourself up for failure, Haircut,” he said out of the blue. 

“How so?”

“You want people to be better so much, and then you’re sad when they’re not.”

Ray scratched his head.  “I can handle disappointment, Mick. I don’t take it personally.”

“You think Ava’s got it under control. But what if she doesn’t? Boss’ll be hurt and we’ll all be in deep shit.”

“I think Ava knows what she’s doing, and she listens to Sara as much as Sara does her.  They’re a good match.”

“Don’t you just get tired of being wrong?”

“I don’t know.  How often am I that wrong, really?”  Mick’s jaw dropped.  “Seriously, Mick.  It’s not like I expect people to be perfect.  We all have flaws and make mistakes.  If I had to guess who you were thinking of I would say that I don’t believe they were deliberately trying to screw up, or hurt me.”

“Tell me it doesn’t burn you up.”

“I can’t.  It does, for a while.  Then I get over it.”

“How long can you do it?” 

“I don’t know.  I don’t know any other way.  If it makes you feel any better when it does wear me down you can say I told you so.”

“I don’t wanna see that, Ray.  Just wish I wasn’t on the list of people who disappointed you.”  He moved to leave.  


“Mick, you’re not – don’t walk away. Please talk to me.  I’m not mad at you.” 

“You know that ain’t true.”

Ray’s hands clenched into fists as he worked to remain calm.  “Okay, I’m not pleased with the current situation, but I’m not trying to make things difficult for you.  Anyway, it seems you’ve moved on.”

“What does that mean?”

Ray coughed.  “You have Garima whenever you want her.”

Mick turned on him, face red with rage.  “How fucking damaged do you think I am? I know she’s not real.”

“Real enough that I run into her in the kitchen once a week,” Ray shot back.  “Look, whatever makes you happy. I’m in no position to judge anyone’s choice of bed partner.”  Ray pushed past him and didn’t look back.

 

 

It took a few bottles of hooch that may or may not have caused several cases of temporary blindness in Bulgaria, but Mick was ready to talk, or shout, with Gideon.

“Iss not like I don’t know she’s not real,” he was saying for the third time.  “But I can touch her so it’s not tha’ crazy.  She _could_ talk, but I don’t always know - why do I gotta guess what she wants to talk about?  Oh yeah, cuz I made her up.”

“Mister Rory, I am not sure how I can help you this evening, but I will remain engaged in the event that your slurred rambling reaches a point.”

“Ray likes to talk.  Never have to put words in Ray’s mouth.  Ray’s warm too.  Did I tell you that? Garima – she’s cold, like a lizard.  It was kinda cool at first; like I was really boning an alien.  But then it was weird.  She doesn’t smile or laugh or ask if I wanna do it all again in a lil’ while.”

“Finally, Mister Rory.  We have arrived at the issue.  You miss Doctor Palmer’s company.”

“Yeah, I do,” he admitted. “Company was nice.”

“Than I shall ask, again, why you have not simply told him that? You needn’t reveal anything you’re not comfortable sharing.  Doctor Palmer has always seemed accommodating when it comes to your minimalist approach to sharing information.”

“You think he still wants me?”

“The only way to be sure is to ask him, Mister Rory.”

“Can you ask him for me?”

“I can, Mister Rory.  But I will not.  This is a critical and necessary step in your emotional development.”

“I can’t, Gideon.  If he says no…”.  Mick sat down on the floor, figuring that if he was about to hit rock bottom he should at least spare himself a fall.  He had the presence of mind to feel guilt for getting sloppy drunk.  He’d promised Zari he’d take better care of himself, though not out of concern for his own well-being.  He could never forgive himself if Haircut got hurt again while he was nearby sleeping it off.  Mick set down the bottle and stared at the weight bench.  He sighed heavily.  They’d fucked on that bench a half a dozen times.  They’d figured out a bunch of ways two bodies could position themselves on or across it. 

Their last time was actually the first time Ray approached Mick to see if he was up for some late night fun.  “Hey, I was wondering, um, if you didn’t have plans or needed to turn in early or anything if you wanted to maybe, uh.”  It gave him an almost tickling sensation in his stomach to see Ray nervous so Mick let him continue.  “I know we just did some things last night, but I kind of feel like…”

Mick leaned closer to speak quietly in his ear.  “You wanna get fucked.”

Ray smiled.  “Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you just say so?”

“I didn’t want to seem over eager.  Don’t get me wrong.  Last night was great, as always.”

“So you said.  Haircut, for someone who’s not at all shy once his clothes are off, this is funny.”

“I know. I can’t help it.  Does that mean you want to get naked?  Maybe then we can talk.” Ray smiled.

“Yeah, I’m in the mood for some deep conversation.”

Before long Ray was on his back on the weight bench with his legs over Mick’s shoulders.  Mick sat astride the bench, pushing three fingers in and out, watching Ray’s face for signs that he’d found the right spot.  “Ohhh.”  Yup, that was it. 

For once Mick was happy to ignore his own insistent hard-on to focus on his partner’s pleasure.  Ray looked amazing with sweat beading in the hollow of his neck; scratching at his own chest to experience the drag of fingernails over his sensitive nipples.  Mick kept going, wondering if he might bring Ray off this way.  Then the taller man started to squirm away and push Mick’s hand back. “Nooo,” he moaned. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Feels good,” Ray panted.  “But I want…” Mick twisted his fingers and watched Ray’s abdominal muscles flex.  “Please…wanna cum with you inside.”  Well hell, he’d have to be crazy to turn down that invitation.   He grasped Ray’s ass cheeks, spread him open, and entered him effortlessly.  Penetrating deeply, all Mick had to do was lift his own hips and thrust forward slightly.  He didn’t close his eyes, staying locked in a gaze of lust and something else that Mick couldn’t name.  It was almost a staring contest until Ray threw his head back and shouted, “Mick- fuck-yes!”.  He took his time getting them cleaned up, drawing Haircut in for what Mick conceded was a nice cuddle. 

 

Had that been the last time ever? If he’d known he would have…he wasn’t sure what he would have done, but he thought it would have been something nice.  He began to nod off, knowing that Ray deserved that; something, or someone, nice.

When he woke up he grabbed a bottle of what he hoped was clean water and downed it, remaining on the floor slumped against the wall beside his desk.  Stacked beside the chair was a pile of books that Ray had let him borrow.  Mick had read some, but not the large flat one that was now catching his eye.  He managed to nudge the book from the pile with his foot and scoot it across the floor so he could pick it up.  It appeared to be a comic; graphic novel Ray would say.  Inside the front cover was a note.  “Mick, I know this isn’t your usual choice of reading material, but I thought maybe you’d give this a chance.  I found it surprisingly moving.  I hope you like it too.”

Fortunately there weren’t a lot of tiny words because he had no idea where his glasses were.  The drawings were in black and white, and really arty.  It was about knights or something like that.  There were two men sharing shelter from a blizzard.  Mick kept reading, fascinated by the characters’ lifelike expressions.  One of the guys had big soft eyes, like Haircut’s.  It was sort of a romance, but he didn’t put it down even after the guys started having sex.  Somehow, seeing it in pencil drawing was easier than watching porn.  Mick suddenly felt what the word “intimate” meant. He cleared his throat.

“Gideon, when did Ray leave this book here?”

“I cannot be certain, Mister Rory, but Doctor Palmer has not been in your room in two months.”

Mick’s chest tightened, but he kept turning the pages.  When he’d finished he took a deep breath and held it for a bit.  Was it getting warmer in his room? Why hadn’t Ray said anything about if that was what he wanted? “Gideon,” he croaked.

“Do you need assistance, Mister Rory?”

“Yeah.  I do.  I need to get some stuff.”


	9. Nine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mick thinks he knows what to do. Can he convince Ray that he's sincere?

John and Charlie led all ten missing children through the underground passage to safety.  Sara and Zari worked on getting them settled with blankets and snacks while the others regrouped.  Mick scowled.  “Where’s Haircut?”

Constantine lit up a cigarette and took a long drag.  “Broke his arm in the fray so he agreed to stay behind and cover our escape.  We'll circle ‘round and flank the shite before it can lure any more kiddies out of their beds.”

Mick accompanied John and Charlie on the path through the woods that led back to the cabin from where Ray was acting as bait.  “He’s protected by the sigils,” John explained.  “Long as he’s bleeding the thing can’t touch him.”

Mick growled.  “Whatta ya mean bleeding?”

“Just a wee bit, Mick,” Charlie assured him.  “Harder part is keepin’ it from messin’ with his head.”

“There.” John pointed out the spectral form hovering just outside the open cabin door.  “Good, it still thinks they’re still in the cellar.  I’ll draw it off.”

Charlie went after John while Mick went toward the cabin.  He ducked his head inside to find Ray sitting in a circle drawn on the floor with various shapes and symbols scratched around the outside edge.  At first glance it appeared as though Ray had dozed off, but as soon as Mick took a step forward, he heard the high-pitched whine of a charging energy weapon. 

“Stay back!” Ray barked.  His left arm was resting on his knee, but the blaster was trained on Mick.  With his right hand, Ray dragged a knife along a patch of skin bared by a rip in his under suit.   He flicked blood onto the circle causing it to glow briefly.  “Come on, Haircut,” Mick cajoled.  “You look like beat. Let’s get you home.”

Ray frowned.  “This is the third time you’ve tried worn his face.  I’m not falling for it.”

The creature’s penchant for imitation complicated matters.  Mick would have to find a way to convince Ray it was him.  “Look, what if I told you…”

“Something only Mick would know?  What would Mick know, that I don’t, but I would believe?” Ray countered.  “Could you just stop?  You tried being kind, and then cruel.  Why would I believe clueless?”

“Good point, uh gimme a sec.”

“I appear to have time.”

“Why would you need to blast me if the circle protects you?  If I can enter the circle that must mean I’m me.”

Ray grinned and Mick saw the hint of crazy in his eyes. “Sure.  Come closer.”

“Maybe not while you’re so trigger happy.  Also, I dunno for sure the magic won’t hurt me so I guess I’ll just sit and we can talk until John and Charlie get here.”

“Suit yourself.”

Mick plopped down and crossed his legs. “Broke your arm this time, huh?  Better than the leg again I spose.”

“Marginally.”

“Since we’re not goin’ anywhere d’ya mind if I get a few things things off my chest?”

“I can’t stop you now any more than I could the last time you tormented me with my own hopes and fears.  It’s sort of therapeutic talking back to you.”

Mick wanted to reach out to him; offer some sort of comfort, but if ever there was a time for honesty, this was it. “I’m sorry.”

Ray’s eye twitched.  “What?”

“I’m sorry I said stuff that stuff about…I kinda forgot exactly what I said, but I know it was stupid and I hurt your feelings.”  Ray was staring and it made Mick nervous.  “Be easier if you talked back,” he admitted.  

Ray’s arm trembled slightly.  “Wasn't easy when you dumped me.  Other guys I’ve been with - they weren’t my friends first so when they didn’t want me anymore I could walk away and start over, but I don’t want to do that with you.”

Mick took a few deep breaths.  He knew there’d never been a time when talking about feelings had been so vital.  “I didn’t know what to do about you.  Wanted you so bad, an’ that didn’t stop even after we’d, you know, a buncha times. I'm used to losin’ whatever good I find, or havin’ someone take it away from me.  I started thinkin’ I wasn’t supposed to have you for a…special friend or whatever you were.”   

Ray moved to wet the blade again.  “I wish I could believe you were him.”

“Stop. Ray, please don’t hurt yourself again.  It's really me.  Remember, you said I should read the Lord of the Rings before watching the movies, but I stopped in the middle of last one so I would be surprised by the end.”

Tears began to form in the corners of Ray’s eyes.  “Don’t,” he whispered. 

“I read some of the other stuff you left in my room, like that comic about the knights. It was really good.  I didn’t find it until a couple weeks ago, and I’ve been tryna find the right time to talk to you about it.”

“Please stop.”  Ray’s voice cracked.

“I was gonna tell you that you don’t gotta give up anything. You just keep bein’ all noble and I’ll be the meathead who looks out for ya.”

Ray’s head snapped up. “Wait, you think I’m the lord’s son in that story?”

“Duh.  You’re all smart and brave and…”

“I always saw myself as the squire.”

Mick gave a derisive snort.  “No way.  That’s me.  You’re the one with the nice eyes.”

Ray chuckled softly and let the knife drop from his fingers.  “It _is_ you. Are the children safe?”

“Yeah, they’re good.”  Mick rose and helped Ray to his feet.  “Let’s go home.”

 

Charlie made tea while Gideon set Ray’s arm.  Mick hung back while everyone checked in with the hero of the day.  As Ray left the medbay, Mick approached.  “When Gideon tells me to rest up you always wanna make sure I do it."

“It’s okay, Mick.  I’m tired.  I promise I’m going right to bed.”

“Come by my room really quick.  Got somethin' to show ya.”

 “Okay.”

Mick ushered Ray into his room, which seemed to have been tidied up.  Against the back wall instead of the weight bench and punching bag there now sat a bed with a nightstand next to it.  “Oh, that’s nice, Mick. It’s better for your back if you don’t sleep in your chair all the time.”

Mick smoothed out a wrinkle in the duvet.  “Ya know I heard you say that if someone wants you in their life, they’ll make room for you.” 

Ray’s eyes widened.  “You got a bed for _me_?”

Mick huffed and rubbed the back of his neck.  “Yeah, well I mean, for us. That’s if you want there to be an us. You don’t have to decide right now.  Been a shitty day and you need to cash out.  I thought if you wanted to you could sleep here tonight and I’d keep an eye on you in case you needed anything.” 

With a watery smile, Ray sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing lightly.  “Seems sturdy enough.  I'll lie down for a little bit.”  He was asleep less than a minute after his head hit the pillow.   

 

Ray woke to find a blanket had been tucked in around him, but Mick was gone.  On the bed next to him sat the graphic novel that had made a strong impression on the two men.  There was a note sticking out of the center.  _It still ain’t easy for me to talk about some stuff so I hope it’s okay if I write it down instead.  That way I won’t forget anything important.  I don’t know where we go from here.  I don’t know if you’re my boyfriend and I’m your goat boy or what.  I think I want what the guys in this story have.  I want to make you smile and laugh again.  The kissing was cool too-and the sex. We should maybe do that some more?_

Ray pressed the paper to his lips.  Mick Rory wanted to be his boyfriend? Yeah, he thought he could handle that.


End file.
